Work Text:
Apollo side-stepped as he finished sweeping the left corner of the Wright Anything Agency's foyer when he heard a knock at the door. He hitched up the broom so it wouldn't drag and undo the last twenty minutes’ worth of work. "Forgot your keys again, Mr. Wright?" he asked before opening the door.
He squawked when a metallic Gavinners logo greeted him instead of the golden locket of his boss. Apollo looked up to find a smirking Klavier. "Not expecting me, were you, Herr Forehead?" he teased, sarcasm spilling through his thin lips as his gaze lingered on the broom.
Apollo scowled. "Unbelievably, I have other responsibilities besides kicking your ass in court."
Klavier chuckled, taking it lightheartedly. "I'll be the first to remind you this was your idea, Liebling ," he remarked, leaning down to look him in the eye. The other lawyer turned around and signaled with his hand for him to come in. The prosecutor did so.
“Don’t make me regret it,” the shorter lawyer warned as he set the broom down behind the door and made his way to his desk. It was the neatest part of the whole office, despite his best efforts to organize Trucy’s mounds of props and tools. He’d spent nearly an hour working on that before switching to sweeping. It was perfectly reasonable to want a clean space when having a professional meeting with a colleague—which was all this was. No matter what Mr. Wright thought, this was not a date.
Klavier’s laughter filled the quiet again. “Good thing I stopped myself at the door, then.” Apollo turned around, leaning on his desk and knocking aside one of his mangas. Oh, shit, he’d forgotten to put those away. He gathered them up and stuffed them into one of the drawers as subtly as he could. The prosecutor averted his gaze, but knew the shorter lawyer was about as subtle as the cologne he’d put on that morning. It was a new scent, but a welcome one. He hoped Apollo would start wearing it more often.
“I’m scared to ask what you mean by that, honestly,” the defense attorney answered when he closed the drawer with his foot and turned to the other man across the office. He was running a finger through one of Charley’s leaves.
The prosecutor turned to him and winked. “Is that a broom, or are you just happy to see me?” he quipped, shit-eating grin on his face.
Apollo let out the longest sigh of his life, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing down the warmth steadily climbing from his neck. “I hate your brain,” he murmured. Klavier snickered, clearly biting back louder laughter. He finally made his way to the chair Apollo had pulled up for him. He set one foot on the floor and the other dangling from the armrest.
The defense attorney looked at his odd seating position and sighed again, deciding not to question it. He sat properly on the other side of the desk and picked up the file waiting for him beside the bowl of crackers. He took one and bit into it.
Klavier hesitantly reached out for one, too. Without looking up from the paper he was reading, Apollo said, “They’re to share.” Taking that as permission, he ate one.
“Do you usually snack while you work?” the prosecutor asked, pulling out a pen from his breast pocket and opening his own folder to look at the same files. He’d already highlighted a few lines and written in notes beside them—a habit he’d developed back at Themis. He barely stopped himself from sighing dreamily when he noticed the pile of colorful sticky note corners poking out of Apollo’s papers.
The shorter man nodded. “Keeps me awake,” he added. “Looking over all these reports can get boring after a while.”
“Ach, no trial could be boring with you across the courtroom,” Klavier said, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand.
Apollo nearly choked on his cracker. He swept aside the crumbs that escaped him as he coughed out his shock and glared at the prosecutor, who was pretending to read. “Shut up,” he chuckled, softly kicking the leg he had on the floor.
Raising the pen, he joked, “Bold of you to assume it was a compliment.”
“Shut up!” he repeated, once again tapping his lower leg. Or, at least, he hoped it was Klavier’s leg. It could’ve been the desk’s leg.
A soft tap against his ankle assured him he’d aimed correctly. “Really, though,” the prosecutor stated, using that same pen to point out a line. Apollo leaned across the desk to see. “I refuse to believe this wasn’t a bluff.” The shorter lawyer noted he was referring to a claim that he had made halfway through the first day of the trial. Being able to read the exchange leading up to it made it apparent that it sprung from the defense’s bench totally unprompted.
Apollo slicked his hair back with a smirk as he retreated into his seat. “For being so sure, it’s weird that you didn’t raise an objection,” he fired back.
Klavier scoffed, reaching for a cracker. “I wanted to see where you were going with it, that’s all.”
“Not very far, apparently,” he snorted, skipping ahead to the end of the cross-examination where his theory had been debunked by decisive testimony.
The prosecutor across from him shook his head. “Ach, but it was the first step in the right direction. Give yourself some credit, Liebling ,” he said before eating the cracker and getting another.
Apollo grabbed another sticky note and started writing on it after adding it to the page. Klavier resumed reading, straining to focus amidst the other man’s powerful cologne and kicks to his shoes. He took it back. He hoped this was the last time Apollo ever wore that scent or his entire law career was ruined.
“What annotation did you make?” the prosecutor asked when he stopped hearing the pen’s scribbling, mostly to remind himself of the purpose of this meeting—which was strictly professional and not a date, regardless of his own wishes—as he put both feet on the floor to lean closer. Apollo, noticing this move, drew the folder to his chest with a squawk, blocking his view.
“What?” he asked. One of his horns fell over his face so he blew it out of his eyes and straightened it with one hand. Klavier sat back down. His knees going weak at that sight did not play a factor in that decision despite appearances.
He cleared his throat again, setting down his copy of the transcript. “Just now. You wrote something down.” He pointed at the folder with his pen. “Did I miss something?”
“What?” he asked again.
Klavier tapped his shin. “Just show me it, Herr Forehead!” he chuckled, leaning forward as much as he could while still sitting. The defense attorney shook his head. He would actually die, right here and now, if Klavier saw the phrase give yourself some credit written in his annoyingly neat handwriting.
The shorter man, in a panic, grabbed a cracker and shoved it into the other’s mouth. Klavier fell back in his seat, stopping the crumbs from flying out like projectiles with his hands as he coughed. “Oh, shit, I’m—” Apollo started, but the prosecutor waved his hand again, his coughs turning to laughs.
“We’re even now, ja ?” he joked. Apollo rolled his eyes. Klavier flipped to the next page of his copy and smiled as he saw from the edge of his vision how the tension left the defense attorney’s shoulders at that. He unglued himself from the folder and started reviewing the next page. His brows furrowed together in thought. The prosecutor nudged his shoe again to force his eyes away from that adorable expression. He felt a nudge back.
They reviewed the rest of the transcript in a similar fashion. They finished the bowl of crackers near the end of the second day, but Apollo swooped in with a second pack he kept in another part of his desk and refilled it. By the time they were done, the office was lit by the twilight streaming in through the blinds and the lamp in the leftmost corner of the desk—though that mostly only illuminated Apollo’s side. Both their legs were mildly sore from all that kicking and tapping, but neither could find it in themselves to mind.
Klavier made his way to the door without a word, his folder tucked under one arm. The defense attorney followed and held the door open for him.
" Danke ," he said, turning around after stepping through. "If there's one thing we learned today, it's that you gave quite the performance in court. I hope to see another like it soon." Apollo couldn't help but notice his fingers sliding the ring on his thumb on and off. "Maybe, we can review the transcript for that one together, too?"
“Only if you promise to actually let me work,” he joked, crossing his arms.
The prosecutor gasped in mock offense. “Ach! As if I was the distracting one!” To emphasize his point, he tapped the side of his shoe.
Apollo rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t fight back the smile on his face. “All right, all right,” he relented. “I’ll think about it, Prosecutor Gavin.”
With a final wink, Klavier turned around again. “ Bis morgen , Herr Forehead,” he said, placing his free hand in his pocket, mostly to keep himself from fidgeting more.
Before he made it more than three steps down the hallway, the shorter man leaned out from the doorframe. “Hold it!” he yelled, putting those Chords of Steel to good use.
The prosecutor turned on his heel.
Apollo rubbed the back of his neck, trying to coax the heat out. Wow, he suddenly really regretted this. “Um, about that note from earlier,” he started. Would he even remember it? Klavier nodded, urging him with a hand to proceed. It seemed he did—just his luck. “I wrote down what you said, about giving myself more credit,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “I thought it was some good advice.”
From where he stood, he burst into laughter. “You nearly choked me with a cracker to hide that ?” he asked between heaving breaths.
He crossed his arms and looked away. “This is why!”
“Herr Forehead, please !” he wheezed. He stopped for a moment to recover his breath fully, all the while being glared at. He cleared his throat as he explained in a gentle tone, “In all seriousness, I’m glad you took note of that. You should be more confident in court. You’re brilliant, you know.”
The defense attorney looked at the floor. “Brilliant, huh?”
“ Ja . I’ve been prosecuting for some time now. Trust me when I say, I’ve had no trial like the one we just looked over.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t take that as a compliment,” he joked, hand on his bracelet. He looked all over him for a tell, but even the bracelet couldn’t pick anything up.
Klavier laughed. “Never took you for one to hold grudges.”
“Well, words hurt, Prosecutor Gavin,” he retorted, but his chuckle made it clear to both that it was all in good fun.
Once the hallway had settled into its natural silence, the two men waved at each other, and Klavier let himself out the way he came. Apollo walked back inside as he let out the longest sigh of his life. Standing over his desk, he flipped to the page with the damned post-it note, added the words you’re brilliant with a little heart beside them, and placed the closed folder below his stack of mangas. No one could ever see that thing, or they’d think today was a date, which it definitely was not .
Broom in hand, he started sweeping up all the crumbs around his desk, wondering what would happen the next time they got together to review a court transcript.